Sometime Around Midnight
by LoriDeux
Summary: "Darling, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost." / "You just have to see her, don't you?"
1. Chapter 1

_And so there's a change in your emotions_

_And all of these memories come rushing like feral waves to your mind_

_-.-.-_

_He's dirt broke. _

_It's been two years since he graduated from Hollywood Arts, and Beck Oliver is honestly fucking exhausted. When he looks at his life, all he can see is what everyone else does: a twenty year-old, wannabe actor who still lives in his parent's driveway because he can't afford to live anywhere else. He sees a failure, and feels like a fraud. While everyone around him has moved on and is doing something with their lives, all he has are dreams and twenty-seven dollars tucked away in his old leather wallet. _

_And _her_, he always has her. _

_So here he is, sitting up in his tiny bed, in his tiny RV, with his girlfriend lying fast asleep next to him as he contemplates life. _

_He might be a little happier about it if he at least had enough money to buy her a nice dinner every once in a damn while. _

"_Hey, what are you thinking about?"_

_He breaks away from his thoughts and looks down at her wide eyes. Noticing that they're blue today, or at least the sheets wrapped around her make them look that way, Beck brings a hand up to cup her cheek, and his thumb traces over jawbone as she leans into his touch. Her voice is groggy and her eyelids flutter close as she languidly tries to fight off the sleep she just woke from. _

"_It's early, you should go back to sleep," he tells her, avoiding her questions. He's pretty sure she won't be too forthcoming of his thoughts, and he doesn't feel like explaining just what a failure he knows he is to the only person who still believes in him. _

_Jade arches her back, stretching out her muscles as she crawls up his body until she's practically lying on top of his bare chest. Her fingers lazily create uneven patterns on his abdominal muscles and she lifts her head so she can press a soft kiss to his jaw. Lifting her arms to wrap around his neck, she murmurs "come sleep with me," as she softly tugs at his body until she successfully pulls him down onto the pillows with her, and Beck can't stop the smile that forms on his face._

_This is his favorite time with Jade. He loves seeing her in the mornings, when she's sleepy and pliable. All of her infamous walls are down and she's completely opened and vulnerable to him and his decisions. She trusts him enough to let him in. Her now-short hair is tangled due to his fingers running though the silky strands the previous night. Her voice is sultry and her eyes are heavy with exhaustion. And, as the cherry on the top, she's usually naked and wrapped up in thin sheet that leaves nothing to the imagination. Or, maybe, what he loves most is that in an almost primitive level, he can smell himself on her and he knows that she's _his_. _

_And, somehow, that makes everything else okay. _

_-.-.-_

It's the typical set up.

He's walking through another party, trying as hard as he can to avoid mingling with the high-class guests he's basically obligated to be cordial to. In one hand he carries his ever-present glass of whisky. It's a habit he picked up a few years ago; destructive, really, but there's just something so enigmatic and refreshing about the way the burning liquid feels as it slides down his throat, that he knows he won't give it up any time soon.

A high-pitched laugh erupts from a nearby woman and, for a second, his mind flashes back to a petite redhead he used to know. It's not the same, obviously, and he feels a wave of disgust wash over him when he detects the lack of honesty in its tone. Cat Valentine had the most sincerely laughter he'd ever heard, full of innocence and blissful, childish ignorance. Her personality made him long to be protective of her, shield her from the cruel reality of their world. A surrogate brother, of sorts. He wonders where she is, and if perhaps she's married or doing something exciting with her life; something meaningful, before deciding that it really doesn't matter. Shrugging the treacherous thoughts out of his mind, he returns his attention to the patron, knowing that there's no way that girl would be here. And, even if she was, she wouldn't be laughing in his company.

It was common knowledge who she'd sided with.

It's not that he regrets it. He'd always known what he wanted and what he'd have to surrender in exchange. It was his proverbial Deal with the Devil, and one he'd reaped in great benefits from. Gone were the days in which Beck Oliver was figuratively unknown or striving for work. Two years after he'd graduated, an opportunity (in the form a cut-throat agent) had presented itself to him and he'd grabbed onto it with both hands. Unfortunately, nothing in Life came without strings.

Or, the requirement that they be cut.

Ambition means nothing if you're not willing to make a couple sacrifices.

-.-.-

"_You have everything we're looking for, and we want to offer you the job."_

_Beck blinked in surprise as the woman in front of him gave him a blank stare. Here she was, delivering the news that promised to completely change his life for the better, and she looked as excited as a kid being told they were banned from eating candy. The woman, Anna Scherz, was notorious for being one of the most successful agents in the industry, and every single actor or actress under her leadership and agency had made it Big. _

"_Wow, that's just, amazing," he gaped out, running his hand through his hair in a visible manifestation of his nerves. A tick he'd never been able to get rid of, if you could call it that. It probably has something to do with his surroundings and the fancy office he's standing in at the moment, but it all seems overwhelming and surreal. "Thank you, for the opportunity," he manages to get out, before a smile forms on his face. "My girlfriend is going to freak when I tell her."_

_She arches an eyebrow at his words, and her lips purse in disapproval. "I wasn't aware you had a girlfriend, Mr. Oliver," she remarks, her voice prim and proper, and for the first time, Beck thinks he can hear a slight German accent in her voice. "I'm afraid that's going to pose a problem with your situation." _

"_What are you talking about? I don't think I understand…" _

"_It's not very hard to understand. All we're asking is that you follow the plan we have set out for you. You being in a relationship with this young lady does not fit in with the image we're planning to create for you, the one you need to be successful in this industry."_

"_You want me to break up with my girlfriend of five years, only so I can fit into the image you want?" Beck questioned, his voice full of disbelief as he wondered what exactly was going through this lady's mind. What the hell was wrong with her, to believe that she could come into his life and demand he make all these changes for a job? _

"_Let's be clear here, Beck. I don't have to pick you; there are about a hundred other actors who are simply waiting for me to even answer their phone calls. But, there was something about you that seemed to stand out, so I want to give you a chance," she answers, dropping her binder on a table and pausing to take a sip from her cappuccino before resuming her speech. "I've been in this industry for the past fifteen years and I know how it works. Now, when I say something is going to work, it does. Always." _

"_But there has to be another way," he insists, pleading with the stoic woman to understand and be reasonable. "I love this girl, and I was going to ask her to marry me," he confesses, hoping to illicit some sort of emotional response or sympathy from her. _

"_Honey, you're twenty years old. I can assure you that you won't feel the same way about her in five years. If you go ahead and marry her now, you might as well kiss your career goodbye. Starting right now."_

"_You don't understand," he starts again, but Anna cuts him off._

"_No, what you don't understand is that you need to be out in the scene. You need to take this deal and catch a plane to New York. You need to date starlets with way too much money and paparazzi's flocking around them. You need to dump this girl and this life and reinvent yourself. You need the kind of connections that I can help you make, not the ones your high school sweetheart has, since those are obviously getting you nowhere."_

"_But I love her," Beck repeats, dropping his shoulders in defeat. _

"_You do now, but you won't soon. This deal leaves with me, Mr. Oliver. You agree to the conditions and take it now, or I find myself another actor to promote," she deadpans. "Now, I wonder where I'll find one of those in Hollywood?". _

"_I don't know what to say."_

_Her face softens then, and she looks at with a look that could almost be mistaken for sympathy. "Beck, people want somebody they can fall in love with. The fans want to believe they have a chance to marry their favorite star, they need that hope. Everybody loves a bad boy; they crave that danger and excitement. Us introducing you as a boring, married man is the absolute worst thing we can do," she tries to explain, before changing tactics in search for the weak point. "Don't you want something better for your life than what you have right now? Don't you want to be _somebody_?"_

_Beck shuts his eyes tightly as the words resonate in his mind. She's managed to hit the bull's-eye in just a few minutes, and he hates himself for seriously considering her offer. His mind flashes back to an image of Jade, smiling at him with eyes full of love and understand, trust, and his fist clench around the material of his flannel shirt. Against his conscious and reason, against his heart and his every instinct, he turns to face the woman who currently held the key to his dreams and asked:_

"_Where do I sign?"_

_-.-.-_

A deafening murmur breaks out in the crowd as a mixture of voices gossip over the newest arrival. Beck doesn't even have to strain his ears to catch the name, and he doesn't bother to hide his annoyance at the new presence.

Ryder _fucking_ Daniels.

They'd both began their careers at similar times, on rival TV shows, and the press had wasted absolutely no time in comparing them and their popularity. Their entire careers had consisted of constantly trying to one-up each other; whether it be based on the number of Box Office Hits they each had, the amount of music videos they appeared in, or something as petty as the notches in their belts: it was all the fucking same. A smirk forms on Beck's handsome face as he remembers the _one_ thing his rival had always wanted and never been able to get. A sense of smugness spreads through his chest as he recalls her love for him, _only_ him, and the loyalty with which she'd always proven it.

What Ryder Daniels wanted the most, ended up being what Beck Oliver needed the least.

Funny, the way things seem to pan out with time.

"Who's that girl with him?"

The question catches him off-guard, and Beck takes a moment to scan his surrounding and try to decipher just what was making such a commotion. It doesn't take him long to point out the girl in question.

She's facing away from him, but he can tell that she's beautiful.

A red dress hugs her figure, emphasizing every curve of her luscious body. Her chestnut brown hair cascades down her back and the tips of it flair out in soft waves. The exposed skin of her back is a creamy pale that reminds him of cool summer nights, and her long legs are perfectly toned and without flaws. All of those things he could deal with, though, it's what happens after that flips the tables.

She turns around, and his heart skips a beat.

The first thing he notices is that she's only grown more gorgeous with time, if that was ever even possible. Maybe it's the vibrant red dress, or the lighter hair, but there's something about her that _glows_; makes her look like an ethereal goddess. Her lips, painted a bright, cherry-red, part into a wide smile and all Beck can think of is the last time he'd kissed them, and how they'd tasted of tears and regret.

"Look at her, walking in here like she owns the place," a blonde next to him sneers, jealousy obvious as she stares at the new arrival with deep contempt. "Didn't she read the invitation? This is a Black & White party, and she's in here wearing red and demanding attention like some kind of whore," she scoffs.

Beck fights off the urge to defend his ex-girlfriend's honor and lets his curiosity take over instead. There's no way he's letting her leave without getting a word in. He thinks that maybe now that he's famous they might have a chance, or that at the very least he can apologize for the way things had ended between them three years earlier. However, all reasonable thoughts leave his mind as he watches her interact with his proclaimed rival, flirting and grabbing onto his arm like some fucking schoolgirl with a crush. The irritation that courses through his veins at seeing her with Ryder is nearly crippling, but he forces himself to remain in place and wait for his chance to approach her.

It doesn't take long.

Around twenty minutes after they arrive, Beck watches as Ryder leads Jade away from the crowd and excuses himself after leaving her by the bar.

Perfect.

Making his way through the crowd, he zeroes in on her and stops only once he's directly behind her. Tapping her shoulder, he prepares himself to study her every reaction in an effort to know how to handle the situation. If there's one thing Beck has always been good at, it's reading Jade West like an opened book.

"Jade," he calls out, soft and in a whisper that makes their incoming conversation sound like a secret affair. She turns around, surprised that somebody there knew her name, and her expressions turns into one of curiosity when she realizes it's him.

"Oh, hello," she greets him, a wide smile on her face. "I don't believe we've met."

That shocks him. "You're joking, right, Jade?" he asks her, narrowing his eyes at her as she tilts her head in confusion. "Neither one of us has changed that much in the past three years. Obviously, we know each other."

"I'm sorry but you must be confusing me with somebody else," she replies, and her eyes dart around the room, obviously trying to locate her missing companion. "I've never seen you before in my life, and I'm here with my boyfriend."

"You're Jade West, and you were my girlfriend for years. Stop pretending you don't know me," he demands, and his voice rises as the agitation inside of him grows. It doesn't make any sense for her to be acting this way. He would've expected her to react in anger, maybe even make a scene, anything except this complete lack of recognition.

A sympathetic expression settles on her features then, and Beck reads the pity that fills her eyes as she stares at him with a sad smile. "I wish I could help you, but I honestly don't know what to say," she sighs.

"I just, I don't know who you are."

A chill passes through his body, freezing his bones and stopping his heart as he recalls the last time she'd said those words to him.

-.-.-

"_I don't know who you are!" she yells at him, her voice thick with sadness and the threat of tears that are being just barely kept at bay. "The Beck Oliver I know wouldn't let some random bitch tell him how to live his life!"_

"_That's just it, Jade, nobody's helping me get out of this life, and I need to get out," he shoots back, exasperated and wanting her to understand his reasoning. _

_They're in her house, and they've been arguing for the past two hours over his news. She's been fighting off her tears the whole time, willing herself to keep a brave front even as she asks him to stay, and all it does is make him feel like a bigger coward for not staying with her. _

"_You're not getting out; you're leaving me and running away," she accuses him. _

"_I don't want to, but I have to," he repeats, as if the fact that he feels bad over leaving her would make a difference in the grander scheme of things. "I need you to understand me."_

"_No, I won't understand you," she echoes, wiping furiously away at the stray tear that rolls down her cheek. "You don't have to go, Beck, you can stay here and we can make it, together." _

"_We can't make it here! We've been trying for years and it's just no use!"_

"_Don't you believe in me, in us?"_

_He wants to yell at her that it's ridiculous. Of course he believes in her, always has, but that's not the problem. It's himself that he doesn't trust, and he's tired of coming home to disappoint her every time he loses a lead to another actor. She's only person who believes in him, and it terrifies him to think that one day even she will stop. If he was a better man, he'd tell her the truth and try to explain himself at the risk of sounding completely pathetic, but he's not and he won't. _

"_Jade," he sighs, but she's standing up from her bed and walking towards him. She places her palms on both sides of his face, forcing him to look in her eyes. They look grey today, and he wonders if that's some sort of epiphany for her feelings and demeanor, or maybe their future, but who really knows. _

"_Please don't leave me," she pleads, completely letting go of her control and doing everything and anything she could to fight for him. "I know I don't say it a lot, but I love you. I need you to stay here with me," she cries softly, widening her eyes as much as possible and giving him the look she knows will always make him cave to her demands. _

_He opens his mouth to speak but hers is on top of his before he can utter a word. Her lips press to his in a kiss full of sadness and grief. A light flickers on in Beck's brain and he realizes that this is probably the last time he's ever going to kiss her, and the last time she's ever going to look at him with eyes full of love and trust, before he shatters it all to Hell. The moment he responds, Jade presses her body closer to his, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down onto the bed with her. _

_It's not long before they're both down to their underwear, with Beck lying on top of her body as he pressed kisses to her neck and chest. _

"_Tell me you love me," she asks, and she sound so young and innocent that it breaks his heart. _

"_I love you, Jade, always," he responds without hesitation, before his lips return to hers. _

_He takes his time, caressing every part of her body his fingers, lips and mouth can reach. When he slips inside her, he tells her he loves her and reminds her she's beautiful and talented. He whispers to her that she's strong and independent, and that the fire inside of her is enough to light the world on fire. And later, when they're both exhausted and laying down in her bed, he kisses the top of her head and tells her it's okay if she wants or needs to forget him, because he'll never forget her. _

_After that, he slips out of her bed and life, intending to never return._

_-.-.-_

"Babe, are you okay?"

Beck looks up to find Ryder has returned, holding two glasses of what appears to be red wine in his hands. He hands one to Jade before wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an action that's supposed to appear protective, but Beck knows is Daniels' way of telling to back off.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answers him, turning to face him with a look of complete adoration. "This man was just confusing me with somebody else, but I honestly have no idea who."

"You messing with my girl, Oliver?" Ryder asks, raising an eyebrow in his direction and not even trying to hide the glint of amusement that shines in his eyes. "She's amazing, isn't she?"

"I don't know what you two are playing at, but we both know she was my girl first," Beck basically growls out, pissed off beyond belief that they we're both apparently intent on messing with his mind. He wasn't fucking insane, and he knew they were both trying to make him out to be a fool.

"What are you going on about now?" Ryder questions him. "If the lady says she doesn't know, she obviously doesn't. So, get lost." He demands.

Beck ignores Ryder's comments, and instead turns his attention back to the girl in question. "We dated for five years. I know you're mad at me for leaving, but please stop this already. We both know you know who I am."

She bites her lower lip, facing Ryder for a moment before grabbing onto his hand and intertwining her fingers with his. Finally, she turns back her focus to him, and clears her throat before answering softly.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know you," she repeats, and Beck wants to grab ahold of her and shake her until she admits the truth. "I hope that one day you find whoever you're looking for, or maybe somebody who lights up your world."

With that, she tugs on his hand and asks her date to take her away, something to which he gladly complies. All Beck can do is stand there and stare as a girl who once meant the world to him walks away on the arm of the man he hates the most in the world. He takes a seat on one of the stools in the bar and orders a Vodka Tonic. Somehow, he knows whisky won't suffice his needs tonight.

Because tonight, he's twenty years old again. He's young and insecure and he finally found out what it's like when the person you once loved the most doesn't register your existence. And, he realizes that if she was the only person who knew who he really was before this whole _persona_ appeared, and she forgot him, then what the hell was he?

_Who_ the hell was he?

If all he had left was a fake personality, a mask, then he was nothing without it. Just another fake in a sea full of phonies. He wonders for a second if this is what she felt like when he left; a complete sense of emptiness and loneliness that threatened to swallow him whole.

It's later, when he's lost in his own thoughts and on his third whisky that a server politely calls out his name. In his tray he carries a miniature envelope, and he informs him that the lady in red asked a message be delivered to him. He all but snatches it off the plate, promptly thanking and dismissing the man before tearing the letter opened. Inside, in the elegant calligraphy she's always had, is a note with a single question.

_What's it feel like being a fraud?_

Actually, no, the note isn't alone. There, sitting patiently inside the envelope, is a simple gold ring he instantly recognizes.

It's the promise ring he gave her when they were fourteen, in love, and he'd sworn he would always love her. The same ring that matched the engagement one he'd never had the chance to give her, and the same ring that was identical to the one he'd never been able to bring himself to throw away.

He looks at the door in just enough time to see her kissing Ryder, before he pulls her away and leads her outside.

A sardonic laugh leaves his chest as he realizes the truth behind her words. By trying so desperately to prove himself, he ended up becoming the one thing he'd feared the most. And, more importantly, the girl who could have been his whole world.

Well, would you look at that?

-.-.-

_You know that she'll break you in two_

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	2. Chapter 2

"_You're such an asshole."_

_Beck turns around to face the dark-haired girl, her anger contorting the elegant features she possessed into an angry sneer. Except, she's not a girl anymore: she's a woman; full of curves and bosoms that only seem to have developed more in the last few years. Her cheeks are flushed from the exertion and her exasperation, and her hair looks wind-blown from her drive across town. She's wearing dark jeans and a white blouse that should not be as attractive as they are, but the way they hug her slim physique is downright captivating. _

_Fucking beautiful. _

"_I don't know what you're talking about," he instantly denies. Of course, he knows exactly what she's going on about, but he's not about to admit it and hang himself. A death wish has never been high on Beck's To-Do list, and he's never been a masochist either (for the most part, anyways). _

"_You leaked the damn pictures!" she accuses, widening her (now) stormy grey eyes and staring at him like he's the biggest piece of dirt in the world. "You know I didn't want anything to do with you, and you told the whole world about us!"_

"_The last time I saw you, you swore you didn't know who the hell I was," he reminds her, taking a step towards her and not being surprised that she's not even the least bit intimidated by him. "So why would it bother you at all that pictures of me and my high school sweetheart were published?"_

"_There are paparazzi all over my home, stalking me because of the stunt you pulled! Have you even seen some of the articles they've posted about me? They're making me seem like some sort of gold-digging whore for 'sleeping around' with 'the hottest stars'," she snaps at him, her breaths deepening and turning into short pants as she tries to control her anger. _

"_Oh, come on, Jade. You had to know there'd be some kind of backlash from dating a guy like Ryder Daniels," he scoffs, refusing to take any of his much-deserved blame for her current situation. "What the fuck are you even doing with him, anyways? Have you already forgotten all the crap he pulled with all those girls? With Tori?" _

"_My relationship is none of your damn business, and you have no right to say anything about Ryder. At least he's always been honest about himself. But, you; you're nothing but a phony."_

_Fury burns in his eyes at the accusation, and for the first time in her life, Jade takes a step back from him as he moves towards her. Her statement, as true as it may or may not be, scrapped on too many raw nerve endings for him to tolerate. _

"_Then let's tell the whole truth, darling," he snaps at her as his anger pumps through his veins and spreads throughout his body. "Let's tell them how I sold out for fame, and you ended up becoming a trophy slut. I'll bet that makes the front story headlines worthwhile!"_

_In all honestly, he's not really surprised when her fist connects with his face. _

_Of course, Jade is not one to do things by halves, so instead of the expected slap, he was quite literally decked to the point in which his vision blurs for a few seconds. Black spots cloud his vision and he has to blink repeatedly to regain his sight. The sharp edges of her rings scrapped and pierced through the sensitive skin of his nose and cheek bone, and he knows without a doubt that a bruise is already forming. _

_He was going to have a hell of time explaining that to his makeup artist tomorrow. _

"_You have no idea what I am," she informs him in a voice that is void of emotion. "I'm not that stupid girl you left, and just for the damn record, Ryder doesn't see me as something to show off: he loves me."_

_She glares at him when he openly scoffs at her declaration, and if looks could kill, Beck knows that he'd be a puddle of goo lying at her feet. "Ryder doesn't love anybody but himself," he contradicts her, flicking his wrist at her to dismiss her claims. _

"_He loves me more than you ever did."_

_He fights off the urge to deny her accusations. How does he explain that he did love her? Loved her beyond reason and with an intensity that constantly threatened to consume him? _

_How does he explain that he'd just needed something else more?_

_The answer is simple: he doesn't. He does what Beck Oliver is infamous for._

_Deny everything… _

_And aim for the kill. _

"_The only reason he even wants you is because I had you first," he sneers, and he won't deny the shiver of pleasure he feels as the venom-laced words fall from his lips. "Don't you get it? He's playing you to get to me."_

_He watches as she flinches and the shadow of doubt crosses through her face at his words. They're harsh and he knows it, but he's determined to get her to open her damn eyes and wake up from whatever fucking game she's in. If he gets to throw it in Ryder Daniels face after, well, that was just a bonus. _

_She straightens up after that and closes her eyes as she takes two deep breaths. When she opens them again, they're cold and calculating, with a hint of resentment as the only proof of their capability to reciprocate emotion. _

"_Maybe he is playing me," she concedes, and her voice is so calm that Beck knows he's in deep. "But when he _touches_ me, he's all I see, and I know I love _him_." _

_She turns around then, and walks out of his life for the second time in as many months, slamming the door as she leaves. _

_He doesn't even notice the ache that's throbbing in his half-numb heart until he goes to sleep that night. _

_10 points to Slytherin. _

_-.-.-.-_

"You have to leave her alone, Beck."

When Tori Vega had shown up at his door an hour ago, wrapped up in thick scarves and her signature long tresses in their usual disarray with a look of casual accusation etched onto her pretty features, Beck knew he shouldn't have let her in.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know how that's any of your business," he replies, dropping all pretenses of hospitality.

"Jade is my friend, and I can't stand how what you're doing is affecting her," Tori responds, desperately trying to allure to his more sensitive and rational side. As if that would make him change his mind.

Hadn't she read the tabloids?

He didn't have one anymore.

"Jade's a big girl, she can handle herself."

Obviously, it's the wrong thing to say, seeing how the petite brunette stood up from the sofa and stalked towards him with her hands clenched into fists. She lifts her hand to point an accusing finger at him and doesn't hesitate to stab him in the chest with it.

"You left her!" she yells at him. "You left her and you don't get to be mad because she's remade her life and found someone else."

"You left her, too," he snaps back, grabbing onto her fists and halting her abuse on his persona, upset at the never-ending backlash. "You ran off to some fancy university and ditched her when you knew damn well she thought of you as her best friend. What gives you a damn right to come here pointing fingers after so many years?"

Her eyes widen and tears rim their edges as her mouth parts in shock. "I," she stammers out. "I didn't want to, but I had to find myself. I just, I needed to prove that I could be someone on my own."

"Then you know exactly why I left."

It's as close to an admission of guilt as he's willing to get.

"But it's not the same," she shakes her head, refusing to believe they both carried the same burden. "I was her friend, but you, you were her everything," she emphasizes, widening her doe-brown eyes and furrowing her eyebrows.

Look at that, Vega using emotional blackmail.

Maybe this was a sign he really was going to Hell.

"What about her stupid boy-toy," he sneers, taking the opportunity to change the subject. A little common ground was exactly what he needed right now. "You better than anyone should know that Ryder Daniels is a piece of trash."

She flinches and allows her gaze to trail away from his. Her bottom lip slips into a pout and she begins to bite it in a tall-tale sign of nervousness. "Ryder; he's not a bad guy."

"You cannot be serious."

"No, really," she shakes her head, adamantly defending her once-boyfriend. "He's not the same guy he used to be anymore. He's changed."

Cry him a fucking river. He crosses his arms over his chest and throws his shoulders back, staring her down with all the scrutiny he can muster. "People like _him_ don't change; they just get smarter at hiding what they are."

"I know it's hard for you to understand, but I swear: Ryder loves Jade," Tori responds, dropping her arms in defeat.

Of course, it's not as bad as when she adds in a quiet whisper that he can barely hear:

"I think he loves her more than you ever did."

Self-righteous and accusing bitch.

"And how the hell would you know," he all but snarls at her, before continuing his aggressive onslaught. "Tell me, Tori, just how the hell would you know that, if nobody's ever loved you? Isn't it sad, that all any guy has ever seen in you is a pretty girl to get laid with? What the fuck do you know about love and how it feels?"

She gasps, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. She visibly swallows the lump that forms in her throat and Beck feels the stings of remorse lash against his skin when a stray tear rolls down her perfect cheekbones. Tori takes a deep breath, wiping away at her tears and sniffling before she finally stares Beck down again.

"I might not know how love feels, but I know what it looks like," she says, and her eyes narrow at him with a deep contempt before pity replaces her anger. "But Ryder, he looks at her like she's his whole world. He believes in her and he encourages her to follow her dreams. He doesn't bring her down and he doesn't make her jealous…

_He_ looks at her the way _she_ used to look at _you_."

Honestly, he would have preferred she slapped him or cried or did something similar.

But, alas, that is his luck.

Needless to say, she leaves soon after, and all Beck can think about is what exactly led Tori to his door so many years after their last encounter.

-.-.-.-

_She's dancing with an older man he recognizes as a big-shot director when he walks into the ball. _

_He takes a moment to observe her, noticing all the small changes that have occurred since the last time he saw her. It's been three months since her somewhat expected visit to his apartment following his decision to leak their photos, and six months since she came back into his life overall. The buzz around their so-called "Love Triangle" had died down, mostly thanks to Jade's absolute determination to avoid attending the same events he did. _

_Which is exactly what brought him back from his break in filming in Miami, to this charity ball in the currently freezing hole that was New York City. _

_Back to what matters. _

_The navy blue dress that cascades down her body makes her look like royalty, and Beck's half-tempted to leave and come back with a tiara for her to wear. Around her neck is an elegant sapphire pendant that he's sure cost Ryder six-zero figures, and her hair is pulled back into an sophisticated up-do, exposing the curve of her neck and the curve of her back. On her pretty face is a smile that spreads to her eyes, lighting them in the same way that used to enthrall him when he was younger. _

_Such a far shot from her days of being covered in black with dark waves cascading down to her waist._

_He remembers a time when his fingers used to trail down the expanse of her back, smirking when a shiver would run up her spine as his wandering digits slowly explored every centimeter of skin they could discover, and searching farther in, as well. _

"_She's fascinating, isn't she?"_

_He doesn't have to turn around to recognize the voice, and Beck wonders how lost in his own thoughts he must have been to miss his current companions approach. _

"_Always has been," he answers diplomatically._

"_Sometimes I see her, and I still can't believe that she loves me."_

_Beck turns around to glare at the intruder, scowling as he notices Ryder openly staring at Jade. "You really do believe that, don't you?" He questions him, making a show of scoffing at the mere suggestion. "Get real, Daniels, anyone who ever saw us together knows that deep down, Jade will always love me." _

"_Big threats from a person who hasn't mattered in her life for the past few years," he shoots back, keeping his tone calm and collected. _

_It really just makes Beck want to punch him in the face. _

"_You don't know anything about us."_

"_On the contrary; I do," Ryder informs him, taking a moment to sip from the glass of brandy cradled in his hand before continuing his speech. "I know a lot of things, but, most importantly, I know that I make her happier than you ever did."_

_He can't help it. Beck laughs. _

_It's loud and incredulous and more than a couple of people turn around to stare at the attractive men that are frankly creating a scene. Ryder smiles politely at them, silently apologizing for their interruption and biding them to return to their own conversations. _

_Thankfully, Jade continued to be oblivious to them. _

"_You think you make her happier than I did? You don't have a clue what we went through," he mocks him, before his voice turns taunting and a wicked gleam enters his eyes. "I bet I could win her over in a few days. I bet you that if I really tried, she'd be back with me and she'd forget about you in no time. I bet you she still fucking loves me."_

_Ryder stares at him, widening his eyes in disbelief and staring at him as if he'd suddenly grown a second head. Beck watches as his grip on his glass turns to what could only be painful and his jaw tightens with stress. "You 'bet' me? You think you can 'win' her back?" he sneers, disgust obvious in his face. _

"_You imbecile asshole, you're still as self-centered and egotistic as always," Ryder accuses him. "The fact that you still think of this, of _her_, as some fucking _game_ is exactly the reason why she's with me now. You don't deserve her. Never have, never will."_

"_It kills you, doesn't it?" _

"_What the hell are you on about now?" Ryder demands, arching an eyebrow is what could only be described as distrust. _

"_It kills you to know that she picked me, back in Hollywood Arts," Beck clarifies. "You had every girl there, except the one you really wanted, because she only loved me. That's why you're with her now, isn't it? Just to prove a fucking point."_

"_I'm with Jade because I love her."_

"_You're with Jade because you hate me."_

"_Honestly, you can believe whatever the hell you want, but just answer me this: Do you even still love her? Or is this just your ego and pride willing to screw her over, _again_, just so you can show off how big you think your dick is?"_

_Beck would admit, that manages to shut him up._

_Did he even still love her?_

_Ryder is staring at him expectantly, waiting for a response when his cellphone starts ringing. He lets the first one go to voicemail, but when his phone begins to ring again, he groans and curses the fact that he actually has to answer it. _

"_Leave her alone," he warns Beck, before walking away to look for a quiet room to continue his conversation. _

_It doesn't matter. He's too busy trying to think of the answer to give much of a damn. _

_Did he love her?_

_He doesn't know. _

_What he does know is that Jade's watcher is suddenly occupied, and she's free game while they're in public. _

_He walks towards her, shaking his recent conversation out of his thoughts and tapping on the shoulder of the producer she's now dancing with. Her eyes widen in anger when she realizes it's him, and a grin forms on his face at her obvious discomfort. _

"_Mind if I cut in?"_

_Before Jade has a chance to protest, her dance partner agrees and graciously bows out of their dance, effective handing her over to the metaphorical wolf's cave. Beck rests his hand on her waist, pulling her as close as was socially acceptable and intertwining their fingers together. _

"_What the hell are you doing?" she demands, her voice harsh as she paints a faux smile on her full lips. "I told you I didn't want to see you again."_

"_What can I say: I just couldn't resist."_

_He spins her around, and notices that despite the passage of time, she's still completely in synch with all his steps. She compliments and can anticipate his moves, making the routine seem anything but. _

_Beck makes a mental note to send their Salsa dance teacher a thank-you note sometime in the near future. _

"_I barely got those damn rumors to die down. All you're doing is making them surface again. What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?_

_He smiles at her, before lifting his face and flashing the nosy onlookers his winning grin. "Don't you remember? I've always had a problem doing what I'm told."_

"_I'm here with Ryder," she reminds him._

"_Ah, yes. I talked to him already. Still the same ass he was back in school."_

_It should be considered a gift how discreetly she was able to dig the heel of her stilettos into his feet. Then again, maybe it was his almost undetectable wince of pain what deserved the award. _

"_Leave my boyfriend alone."_

"_Don't you miss me?" he asks instead of listening to her warning. _

"_No."_

"_I know I miss you."_

"_Stop."_

"_I miss the way you used to smile at me."_

"_Beck,"_

"_And the way you used to basically purr when I kissed you," he continues. _

"_Stop this."_

"_And the way your back used to arch when I'd touch you here," he whispers in her ear, pressing his fingers against her lower back. She stiffens under his touch, digging her nails into his hand and shoulder to force him to release her. _

"_Let me go, right now."_

"_And the way you used to open your pretty, little lips and moan out my name when you would…"_

_She pushes him away from her then. Without bothering to give him a fleeting glance, she walks away from him and all but runs into the arms of her fucking knight in shining armor. She whispers something in his ear and he nods, turning around to lead her to an empty room. _

_The next day, their picture is all over the gossip columns. Right next to the ones of her smiling and dancing with the pompous douche she calls her Boyfriend. _

_-.-.-.-_

He's not sure how they got to their current position.

It's been two months since the ball, and as long since the last time he saw her, when she shows up at his apartment.

She looks frazzled and angry and if he's being completely honest with himself, he can detect smeared traces of dried tears on her porcelain face. Her eyes are red rimmed and she gives off the image of a ticking time-bomb that was so common to her during her teenage years.

And then she's kissing him.

Her body presses against him and her arms wrap around his neck. His hands instantly grab ahold of her legs and he lifts her body until he's supporting her entire weight. Jade's tongue seeks access to his mouth and he quickly complies, willing to do anything to keep her attention on him.

"What's going on?" he asks her between kisses, the back of his mind warning him she's not being completely rational at the moment.

"Don't talk," she demands, but it sounds more like a plea than anything else.

So he keeps his mouth shut.

And takes her against the wall.

Beck relishes in her body, drowning himself in the curves and contours of her body. He touches her the way he knows she likes it, in the hidden places he's sure only _he_ knows about. Every moan that drops from her lips feels like a beat in his hardened heart, and he thinks that maybe this is bliss.

It's over faster than he knows.

She's resting her head on his shoulder, panting softly against chest as she tries to regain her composure. He strokes her hair, lightly tugging at the tips like he used to when they were younger. She's finally lifting her gaze to face him when her cellphone rings.

"I have to answer that," she apologizes, removing herself from his grip and rummaging through her discarded clothes in search of the damn iPhone.

"Hello," he hears he answer, followed by a muted, "This is her. He what? What are you talking about? Where? Yes, I'll be there immediately."

When she hangs up the phone, she's full of panic and wastes no time redressing herself and ignoring him. After more than three failed attempts to get a reaction from her, he literally has to hold onto her shoulders and force her to face him so he can get a somewhat acceptable response from her.

"What the hell is going on?"

"This was a mistake," she instantly replies. "I can't believe I was so stupid. Just leave me alone, and don't you dare mention this to anyone!"

And just like that, she's gone again, leaving him more confused than he's ever been in his life.

-.-.-.-

Despite his greatest efforts, he can't get in contact with her.

He wants to call her, but remembers he doesn't have her phone number, so that's out of the picture. Tori's still angry at him for his comments and won't answer him anything besides "leave her alone", and everyone else is basically useless to him.

He makes a habit of keeping an eye out on magazines, just in case they can give him some sort of clue regarding where she may be, but it gets to the point where not even Ryder is being mentioned, and dread fills him at the prospect of her being harmed or in some sort of danger. It's been almost a month since their tryst, and Beck hasn't been able to get her out of his mind for more than a few moments in a day.

To help himself relax, he does something almost foreign to him, and turns on the television to some random movie channels. He figures a little mindless TV to fill his thoughts for a while won't do any major harm, and he's in the process of making the Guinness record for channel surfing when he hears it.

_Jade West and Ryder Daniels: Engaged!_

Yippee-fucking-Kay-yay.

-.-.-.-

-Fin-

Just kidding. This story still has some ways to go before I can end it! Thanks for all your awesome reviews so far!

This chapter is dedicated to Khay, specially because I keep breaking her heart with my OTP's (Dramione, anyone?) and she's the most awesome trooper for putting up with all my fangirling.

Also, I posted a poll where you can tell me what fics you're most interested in me updating first, and I'm posting another one where you can tell me if you'd be interested in this story told in Jade's POV with her backstory and how Ryder came into the picture and such.

Don't forget to review!

-Lori


	3. Chapter 3

"_You look beautiful."_

_She's sitting on a stool, carefully studying her reflection on the grand mirror that belonged to the elegant vanity set in her hotel room. Jade's enjoying the unmatched peacefulness that only comes with voluntary isolation when his voice breaks through the silence, and she whips her head back to meet the gaze of her unwelcomed visitor. _

"_What are you doing here?"_

_He smirks, but his face holds no humor and she can see his silent scoff before he commences his taunt. His hair is messy and, if the stubble on his face and his blood-shot eyes are any indication, he's been drinking himself near oblivion. The dark grey shirt that he's wearing falls in line with his dark pants; perfect for camouflaging into the shadows. _

"_What? I can't come congratulate the bride?"_

"_You shouldn't be here," she replies, lowering her voice and narrowing her eyes at him. "Leave before somebody sees you."_

"_Ah, yes," he drawls out, pretending he has no idea just how significant this day was to her, and widening his eyes to emphasize his lack of concern over her wants and expectations. "What would your guest think if they walked in on us today, of all days?"_

_She forces her attention away from him, returning her previous activity of finalizing her makeup. Grabbing her Velvet Rose tinted lipstick; she smears it across her lips before acknowledging his existence once again. This is her wedding day, and she'll be damned if she allows the likes of Beck Oliver ruin it for her. "They can think whatever the hell they want. I don't care. All I know is that I don't want you here, so leave."_

_Yeah: as if he'd ever listen to her. _

_Instead, he takes a few steps forwards and doesn't stop moving until he's standing directly behind her. Leaning down, he lifts a hand until it's leveled with the base of her neck, stretching out his fingers so they can trail down the expanse of her spine. Jade pretends she isn't affected by the action, but can't fight off the involuntary shiver that overtakes her body. When his fingers reach the edge of her dress, Beck dips them down until they're just barely caressing the length of her shoulders. _

"_What, no white?" he questions, referring to her elegant, pearl-colored gown. "Aren't brides supposed to wear white on their wedding day?"_

"_I'm not that much of a hypocrite to pretend like I'm some pure and virginal bride," she scoffs, standing up from her chair to reach for her veil. It's short and lacy, and he's sure that it will just barely reach below her chin once she actually has it on. _

_Beck takes a moment to examine her attire: from the bordering on indecent cut at the top of her dress; wrapped tightly around her chest and waist, forming a bodice that hugged her every curb, all the way down to loose and flowing skirt that pooled and extended beyond her feet. Her long hair had been pulled back into an elegant up-do, with a few stray curls running free and framing her face. Her make-up is intact: a swirl of natural tones with long lashes that emphasized her icy-blue eyes and bring out the speckles of green they usually hid. _

_She takes his fucking breath away, just like she always has. _

_A thought crosses his mind (just for the record, he's blaming the alcohol), and Beck feels like the air just got knocked out of him. For a second, he wonders if this is what she would've looked like on their wedding day, and realizes just how wrong it all is. When he was younger, and his heart and mind were filled with thought of Jade as his bride, she never once looked the way she did now. _

_She wasn't supposed to be getting married in church in the Hamptons, accompanied by hundreds of guests she barely even knew. _

_She was supposed to get married in a private ceremony in Hawaii; on a sandy beach and near a volcano so he could spend the whole time reminding her that, no, she cou1dn't throw Tori into it. Or, her future in-laws, for that matter. _

_She wasn't supposed to be wearing a long and flowing dress, full of lace and patterns. _

_Her dress was supposed to be black, with thin straps so she wouldn't have to complain about how ridiculously hard it was to keep it from slipping down. _

_And her hair wasn't supposed to be made up. _

_It was supposed to be down; flowing freely and allowing her colorful highlights to contrast against her skin and dress. Most importantly, it was supposed to be easy to discreetly pull at the loose strands, smirking when she'd elbow him to stop it and then serving to cover her blush when he'd leaned forward to whisper in her ear all the things he wanted to do that night to the new Mrs. Oliver. _

_Except, she wasn't his future _anything_. _

_She was about to be Mrs. Ryder _fucking_ Daniels. _

"_Why are you doing this, Jade? Are you really that determined to prove a point?" He questions her, running a hand through his hair and raising an eyebrow in disbelief. She baffles him; no, she just, he doesn't even know how to explain how she makes him feel. All that he knows is that he doesn't like it. And, maybe it's his currently handicapped brain (alcohol will do that to you), or the fact that he can't find any other acceptable reason to justify her actions, but he knows his next accusation is a lie even before he says it. _

"_Okay, I get it; you're pissed off at me. You don't have to fucking marry him to show it." _

_And that's when she turns around. Anger burns in her eyes, turning them a dark shade of midnight blue. Her fingers turn into fist and her lip curls as he looks at him with what he can only describe as disgust._

"_You stuck-up, egotistic asshole," she sneers, glaring at him with an intensity that makes him flinch. "My marrying Ryder has absolutely _nothing_ to do with you. I'm marrying him because he makes me happy. Because when I'm with him, I know that he loves me like nobody ever has," she pauses, before closing her eyes and allowing a small smile to form on her pretty lips. _

"_I'm marrying him because I _love_ him."_

_And, somehow, he knows that everything she just said is true._

_Beck thinks he might throw up when he feels the vile realization claw its way up his throat. He feels nauseous and light-headed and he just needs to get the fuck out of there, right now. _

_But he can't; at least, not yet. _

"_What about _me_?"_

_Without even being aware of his words or thoughts, Beck hears as the words slip off his traitorous tongue. They hang in the air for a few seconds, creating tension and allowing the panic to grow inside of him._

"What_ about you?" she questions; dismissive and stoic, as if he meant nothing to her and it was an absolute absurdity for her to even bother contemplating his feelings and his role in her life. _

_He wants to grab her by the shoulder and yell at her that two months ago it was all about him. That she'd been upset and ran to him. He wants to remind her that she'd kiss him and held him as he'd screwed her against the wall of his apartment. He wants her to remember that a few years ago the only thing she wanted was him and one of her biggest dreams was their wedding. He wants her to be wearing his promise ring, instead of having it sit in a drawer inside his nightstand. _

_He just wants her to want him. _

_But she doesn't anymore. _

_So he swiftly turns around, keeping his head high and slips out of her door, effectively bumping into Tori Vega; the Maid of Honor, no doubt. He gives her a cold glare, remembering their last conversation and brushing off their encounter as if it were nothing._

_Tori's eyes widen when she realizes it's him, and she opens her mouth to start telling him all the reason why he shouldn't be there, but it doesn't matter._

_He's gone before any of them can even begin to register in his mind. _

-.-.-.-

"Oliver, your bail's been posted: you're free to go."

The man in question stands up from the dirty seat, clutching his head to try and control the headache currently trying to drill its way through his skull. He glares at the police officer that'd arrested him the previous night and who'd also taken a particularly joyful glee at making sure he was _'not treated like a damn actor who was above the law.'_

Smug asshole.

"This is getting pathetic."

The words cut through his thoughts and Beck scowls at the man who'd uttered them. Ignoring the pain that pulses through his busted lip is easy, at least, in comparison to the almost blinding ache in his ribs that's actively threatening to suffocate him. As discreetly as he possible can (he still has his reputation to protect, after all), he wraps his arm around his torso, leaning against the wall to rest for a moment.

"Fuck off," he mutters darkly, taking a deep breath and accidently releasing a disgraceful wheeze when his rib bones tense and contract in protest.

"That's not the way to show your appreciation for someone who fucking canceled their performance to bail your ungrateful ass out of jail, man," Andre Harris replies, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at his once-best-friend's complete disregard. He halts his steps, taking a moment to cross his arms in front of his chest and stare at the ungraceful mess that is Beck Oliver.

Beck scoffs, running a hand through his hair. "You didn't have to come if you didn't want to. There are more people I could have called, you know? Everybody fucking loves me here."

"Then why didn't you?" Andre shoots back, narrowing his gaze at him. "Why didn't you call one of your fancy new friends? Or that agent of yours?" he continues, making Beck wince. "Why did you call me, when we've barely spoken in the last few years?"

Silence.

"I need to get out of here," he answers instead, effectively ending their current subject of conversation. "There's probably a dozen vultures hanging around outside the station, though."

"Yeah, that's why I parked my car out back."

They make it out of the station without much trouble; Andre's relatively unknown in the New York scene and his public ties to Beck are few, if any. The paparazzi don't pay much attention when the shiny black Mercedes slides out of the extra parking lot, leaving them all behind. Still, the man in question can't help but be confused as he notices that Andre looks troubled as he steers through the empty streets.

Contrary to popular belief, the city of lights _does_ sleep.

"Look, man," he begins, lifting his right hand from the steering wheel so he can scratch the back of his neck in discomfort. "I know why you did it."

Besides him, Beck stiffens. "Why I did _what_?" He questions, arching an eyebrow and allowing the warning to swell into his words.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I really don't," he refutes, rummaging through his jacket's pockets in search for his trusty lighter and pack of cigarettes. Sure, it's a disgusting habit; but he likes to believe that it keeps him sane.

Even if it _might_ eventually kill him.

Funny little fuckers.

Andre frowns. "I know those pictures got published yesterday," he supplies quietly, as if lowering his voice would somehow magically reduce the sting behind them. "It's alright to be upset, bro."

"Why the fuck should I be upset about that?" Beck snaps, molding his fingers into fists and almost crushing his just-lit cigarette in the process. "Let her be off playing at being a happy family with whoever the hell she wants. See if I give a damn."

"You can't be mad at her for getting on with her life," he reminds him, before focusing his gaze back on the road. He releases a sigh, as if he's just lost an inner battle with himself and whatever new information comes out of his mouth would be treated as the highest form of treason. "You, you didn't see what she was like when you left."

That catches Beck's attention. "You weren't even there when I left," he scoffs, shifting his body so he's facing outside his window. "How the heck would you even know that?"

"Because I went back."

Beck widens his eyes, but he refuses to turn back. He has too many questions, and he's almost positive he won't like the answers. Still, he can't stop himself from at least voicing a few of them.

"Why would you even do that? You had a scholarship to one of the best music schools in the country; why would you throw all that away?"

"Because my family meant more to me."

"She wasn't your family," Beck scoffs, and he swears that the anger he feels has _nothing_ to do with the fact that Andre remained loyal to her, even after he didn't. An itch crawls down his spine as he remembers the fact that the man beside him had once been _infatuated_ with his ex-girlfriend. The bitter taste of resentment swells in his throat, and he has to spill out the venom before it poisons him.

"She wasn't ever your family," Beck repeats, his voice rough and harsh. "She never belonged to anyone but me."

Beside him, Andre tightens his grasp on the steering wheel, turning the skin of his palms white with the pressure. "Maybe not," he concedes, "But now she belongs to Ryder, in every sense of the word, and there's nothing you or me or anyone else can do about it."

The words sink in, and Beck thinks that maybe this is what people meant when they spoke of a personal kind of Hell.

Finally, and because there has to be _something_ said or done to break the trance that's threatening to consume him, he speaks again.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way."

Andre sighs. "I know, man, but what if it was?" he questions, frowning and briefly closing his eyes in concentration before offering the most awkward, yet somehow appropriate, words of comfort Beck had ever heard. "For what it's worth; she's happy now."

He thinks that maybe the guy she used to love would understand that. He thinks that the person he was before he left would be happy and satisfied with her happiness, even at the expense of his own. He wonders what the boy he was five years ago would think if he could see all the crap he put her, the girl he loved all his life, through, and if he'd be ashamed of himself for it. And he wonders if there was any chance that same girl would still really love him after it all.

Then he thinks that _that_ "Beck" was long gone and dead, so it didn't really matter.

He drops his finished cigarette into an empty can of coke inside the cup holder, deciding he's had enough of this day. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and allows sleep to overrule him.

He doesn't wake up until he feels the car stop, and he opens his eyes to find himself parked in front of an old gray house with a neatly trimmed yard and a white picket fence. The wind chimes only serve to put his nerves on edge and, after blinking a few times to clear his mind, he can clearly read "The Andersons" printed on the mailbox.

"Where are we?"

"This is my mother's house," Andre replies. "She's off vacationing with her husband. Ten year anniversary, I think. Anyways, I thought this would be a good place to lay low."

"Good thinking," he murmurs, before opening his door and getting out of the car. He's thankful that it seems to be a quiet neighborhood, and even more so that nobody else is outside at this hour. Of course, normal people would be asleep at three in the morning, but one could never really know. Making his way up the front porch, he waits impatiently for Andre to open the door.

The first thing he notices is that the lights are on in the kitchen.

The second, and most important, is the dark-haired girl sitting on a stool and cradling a cup, of what appeared to be tea, tightly in her hands.

Bright blue eyes shift to stare up at him.

"Jade."

-.-.-.-

"_When were you going to tell me?" he demands, feeling a fury he had never experienced before course through his veins as he stares down the woman in front of him. _

"_Why should I have to?" she snaps, refusing to back down from his anger. "What I do now has nothing to do with you!"_

"_Like hell it doesn't!" he growls at her, furrowing his brows and panting softly to regain control of his breath. "How could you try to hide this from me? You had to have known I'd find out eventually!"_

_Her eyes turn a cold, a harsh gray that threatens to pierce through him. "It doesn't matter, and it doesn't concern you!"_

_Without even being aware of it, he places his hands on her upper arms, tightening his hold on her and effectively shaking her twice before her own hands come up to claw at his wrists. She digs her nails into the exposed skin and he flinches when they tear through the skin. _

"_Stop it!" she demands, but it sounds more like a panicked sob now. "You're hurting me!"_

_Tears swell in her eyes, and he snaps out of it. _

_Immediately releasing his hold on, he takes two steps back and stares down at his hands in disgust before looking back up at her. _

_She looks so similar and different from the way she did when they were in high school, that it almost physically hurts him. Her hair is short, falling only halfway down her back, but at least it's black again. Her face is free of any traces of make-up, making her flushed cheeks and now-swollen eyes all that more obvious. It's the middle of summer, and her dress is both simple and elegant; royal blue with thin straps and a skirt that flowed to below her knees. All of that was normal; all of that he could deal with. _

_It was the swell of her stomach that tormented him. _

"_How many months along are you?" he questions, forcing his voice to be stoic and even, as if her answer wasn't of vital importance. _

"_It doesn't matter," she replies, rubbing her arms softly and placing her arms over her stomach protectively. "It's not yours, Beck."_

"_You know it fucking matters a lot, Jade," he spits out, feeling the anger rapidly return to his body. "Tell me how far along you are!"_

"_I said it doesn't matter," she repeats, narrowing her eyes at him before her body falters and she has to lean back against a nearby table. Taking two shallow breaths, she regains her composure, and continues her useless speech. "It's my baby, and Ryder is my husband and its father; that's all that matters."_

"_What if he isn't?" he questions, daring to take another step towards her. "What if it's _mine_?"_

_Her glare softens, and she shakes her head slowly, relaxing her stance. Hesitantly, she places one of her hands on his shoulder, squeezing it as a physical representation of her assurance. _

"_It isn't, Beck."_

_He's not sure if he wants to believe her or not. The prospect both terrifies and relieves him. Or maybe it's just that he wants it to be false so much that he can't stand it. Still, he stares at her, and when he notices that her eyes shift away and she bites her lip, he's sure of one thing. _

_She's lying. _

"_No," he sneers, shaking her hand off his body and stalking away from her. "You're lying."_

"_Beck," she begins, but he cuts her off. _

"_Does he know?" he questions, and they both know what he's referring to. _

_Her eyes widen as her mouth drops open. Her eyes fill with guilt and he knows there's no way he even has a clue. "There's no reason for it. It was a mistake."_

"_That's not what I asked," he retorts, staring her down. "I said, 'does he know'?"_

"_No," she states, crossing her arms over her chest. "And he's never going to find out."_

_Bingo. _

"_Oh, really?" he taunts her, allowing the malice to enter his tone. "Then I think it's about time I had a little bonding time with your husband. What would he say when I ask him how far along you are?"_

_She clenches her jaw, forming her thin fingers into fists. "You stay away from him."_

"_What? You afraid I'll let it slip that I fucked his darling little wife two months before he married her?"_

"_Shut up!" she yells, aiming her fist as his face. He's ready for it this time, though, and catches her arm before it's anywhere near enough to cause him any damage. She fights his hold, trashing against him before she remembers she's very much pregnant and shouldn't be exerting herself. _

"_Let me go," she demands. _

_And then something clicks inside his mind. _

"_That's why you married him so quickly," he states, releasing her. "Because you got pregnant and needed to secure a father."_

_Jade scoffs, rolling her eyes at him. "That has nothing to do with it; you don't know anything about me or my relationship."_

"_That's right," he agrees, seemingly granting her assertion. "The girl I knew had some standards, and she didn't sell out to the highest bidder like some common whore."_

_He doesn't mean the words, but they'd left his mouth before he could even consider stopping them. He's so angry at her and at himself for the situation that they're in that the physical need to hurt someone is unbearable. Of course, he knows he's just as guilty as she is, but no one could ever accuse him of being rational. _

_She looks as if he'd physically hurt her. Her face is completely drained of color and her eyes are filled with tears. She nibbles on her bottom lip and he just knows she's trying to stop herself from openly crying in front of him. Her entire body trembles and all Beck can think is that this is wrong. She's not supposed to be crying; she's supposed to be angry. She's supposed to lose her control and act and feel as irrational as he does, but instead she adopts a look of emptiness that feels too real, too familiar. _

_The same way she did when he told her he was leaving. _

"_I'm sorry; I didn't mean that," he apologizes, and he honestly means it. "It's just this whole thing is insane."_

"_It doesn't matter," she cuts him off. "We both said what we had to. Now it's time for you to go."_

"_This isn't over, Jade."_

"_It actually is," she contradicts, lowering her tone. _

"_The moment that baby's born, I'm coming back," he warns, knowing there was nothing more he could do at the moment. _

_As much as he had changed, he refused to completely ruin her life. _

_He just wouldn't do it – unless there was proof it was his. _

_Then he'd move Heaven and Earth if he had to. _

_Consequences be damned. _

"_Just let me live my life in peace," she quietly pleads. _

"_I wish I could," he answers honestly._

_And then he's out her door again, but she knows he'll come back. _

-.-.-.-

"Beck."

The man in question turns his stare to his old best-friend, accusations burning in them. "Traitor."

"Hey, don't look at me, man," Andre defends himself, lifting his arms in a show of surrender. "I'm just doing what she asked me to do."

"Don't be angry at Andre over this," Jade pipes in, standing up from her stool and moving towards them. "I needed to talk to you, and this seemed like the best place."

"As you could see, I'm doing perfectly fine on my own," Beck scoffs. "I thought you'd be happy; me leaving you alone and all."

"Bar fights and getting arrested doesn't sound like 'perfectly fine' to me."

"And I don't think your husband would appreciate you being so interested in my affairs."

"Okay," Andre interrupts. "I'm leaving now. Jade, call me when you're gone and I'll come take him back home."

She nods her thanks to him and he leaves without another word, allowing the ex-lovers the privacy they needed. Jade waits until he's outside and they can both hear the roar of the engine backing out of the driveway before she begins her conversation again.

"I didn't want for you to find out that way," she apologizes. "You deserved better than that."

"What exactly are you apologizing for?" he questions, losing all effort to maintain his reputation. "Getting pregnant and not knowing if it was mine or his? For popping out a mini version of his old man?"

The words sting his heart as the memory of the tiny baby with the pale flashes across his mind again. The image of the mop of wavy black hair that fell to just above his shiny blue eyes torments him, taunting him in a way that threatens to drive him insane. He looks exactly like a tiny replica of his father, down right to the chin and the mischievous smile.

The exact opposite of him.

She'd had a baby, and it wasn't his.

There was just something so completely wrong about it that it made him want to tear his fucking hair out.

"I know you're angry, but I didn't come here for you to insult me."

"Then what did you come here to apologize for?" he repeats, allowing the alcohol and lack of sleep to take over his mind. "Are you so twisted that you came here to apologize for being happy?"

"That is enough," she declares, raising her voice for the first time in their latest encounter. "You're wrong about all but one thing; I am happy, and I would like to help you, too."

"Yeah, about that: thanks, but no thanks."

They both remain silent afterwards, simply staring each other down and waiting for the other to break first. Deciding he does not want to deal with any of it sober, Beck makes his way towards the fridge in search of any type of alcohol he can find, beer preferably. Groaning in relief when his search turns successful, he takes out a bottle of Corona he's sure Andre stashed there and opens it, swallowing a third of the liquid in less than a minute.

"You know, all those habits are horrible for you."

"What are you going on about now?" he asks, lifting an eyebrow and taking another drink from his beer, mostly to upset her.

"Every time I see you, you're either drinking or you smell like cigarettes. Today, it's both; it's disgusting and the worst thing you can do for your health."

A sardonic laugh resonates in the room and Jade looks up to find him smirking at her. "What can I say, babe? You just bring out the best in me."

She frowns at him, wrapping her arms around herself and pushing a few stray hairs away from her face. "You have to stop blaming me for everything," she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear it.

His gaze softens then, and he places the bottle of beer in the sink. "I want to," he admits, "but who's left to blame after?"

"Do you know what being a mom has taught me?" she asks him instead, taking him by surprised at her sudden change of topic. He doesn't want to hear about how amazing she thinks her life is right now, how much happier she is without him. All he wants to know is that she wishes it was _him_ she was with; that she missed him.

She continues when she sees him shake his head.

"It taught me that all that crap we've done before now doesn't matter," she admits, allowing a small smile to form on her face. "When my baby looks at me, he doesn't know everything I've done and every mistake I have made; he only knows that I'm his mommy and that I love him and he loves me; it's unconditional."

Beck wants to tell her that it's irrational for her to be so sure of the mind process of a three month-old baby, but decides it would probably be wiser to keep the comment to himself.

For now, at least.

"What are you getting at, Jade?"

"Everybody deserves that," she concludes, skipping straight to the point. "You deserve that, Beck. You deserve somebody who could love you and give you that, but it's not going to be me."

"I already know that, Jade; you made it pretty obvious when you married another guy," he retorts, fighting off the feeling in the pit of his stomach that warns him he won't like the rest of her words. He refuses to admit that the feeling of suffocation that's taking over his body has anything to do with his heart.

"Do you really?" she whispers, allowing her now-green eyes to settle on his. "This is the end of it all, Beck, but I want you to be happy."

And he knows her words are true. "It finally is, isn't it?"

"I loved you so much," she answers, before admitting a small truth for his benefit. "Sometimes I think I still do, but then I look around me and I see all these wonderful people that love me so much, and who I love in return, that I know that whatever it is I might feel for you isn't enough."

"You and I have never really cared much for the feelings of others, have we?" he asks, and they both know that it's true. Their game of Beck&Jade had run for so long and so much that they'd often shredded others to pieces in the process, most of the time without even being aware of it.

"No, we haven't," she agrees with a grim frown before her smile returns. "But I have a son now, and all I can think about is how I don't want him to ever have a reason to be ashamed of me; to hate me the way I hated my parents. I want him to grow up trusting and loving me without having to worry I'd ever betray him."

Beck nods, understand her for maybe the first time in years.

"I just want him to be loved and happy."

And he knows this is their end.

Swallowing down his pride, he gathers every ounce of courage he has left and moves until he's standing in front of her. He lifts his hand so it's cradling the porcelain skin of her cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of her cheekbone.

"Don't worry about it," he reassures her, brushing a strand of hair with his fingertips and tucking it behind her ear. "He has an excellent mom who can legendarily demolish anyone who ever hurts him, and by the looks of it, a father who's completely engrossed by him. Your kid's gonna be just fine."

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug he wasn't expecting and nearly knocking the air completely out of him. "Thank you," she whispers in his ear, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Beck's body finally responds, and he tightens his hold on her, squeezing her hips in reassurance.

"Go," he murmurs quietly, separating his body from hers. "Be happy."

Releasing her hold on his body, she allows her eyes to meet his for a final time before pressing a platonic kiss to his cheek and turning from him. Grabbing her bag, she's out the door without a second glance back. He waits until he hears the sound of the engine turn on, and her proceeding descent.

It's not until he's absolutely certain that she's gone that he heads for the fridge in search of another bottle of beer. Making quick work of the top, he raises the bottle until his lips are touching the rim of it when he suddenly stops. Lowering his hand, he stares at the yellow, bubbling liquid that promised to help him forget his troubles for the night, if only he'd succumb.

Making his decision, he turns towards the sink and watches in total concentration as the liquor makes its way down the drain.

It was time to make a change.

-.-.-.-

**AN: She lives! LOL **

**Sorry, couldn't help myself. Anyways, here's the latest update for this one. Excuse the grammar mistakes, as it is almost 3am.**

**Now, I can either end it here or write one final chapter. Review and let me know what you think!**

**Peace!**

**-Lori **


	4. Epilogue

_**I forgive you, I'll forgive you **_

_**For blue, blue skies**_

-.-.-.-

The bride looks beautiful.

Her long brown hair cascades in waves down her back, and the slip dress she's wearing makes her look like the definition of elegance. The ceremony is simple; a small gathering of close friends and family in the church she grew up attending, and the reception is held in the backyard of one of their closest friends, which had been redecorated to fit the special occasion.

The groom looks nervous and ecstatic as the priest moves the ceremony along. He has this unrelenting feeling in the pit of his stomach that the girl in front of him is about to realize the mistake she's likely making and run out on him. They've both done that enough in the past.

His brown eyes are wide and he keeps fidgeting with the edge of his tuxedo's jacket until his bride's reassuring smile meets his gaze, and in that same instant all his worries are vanished.

Because he has loved this girl for as long as he can remember. The moment she walked into his life, he knew that they were meant to be. Sure, it might have taken them a few years and a lot of ups and downs and being separate and with other people, but they were _here_ now, and that was all that mattered.

"I now pronounce you Man and Wife; you may kiss the bride."

-.-.-.-

"And this one is named Kendra."

Beck watched with unwavering attention as the little girl in front of him went on to describe in full detail every single one of the dolls she had in her frilly, lilac-colored bag. They were all spread out on display on the empty space the bench beside him had, their apparent purpose being to '_keep him company'_.

If anyone had told Beck Oliver five years ago that he would be spending a wedding reception hanging out with a little girl and listening to her explain the vast and complex history of each and every one of her dolls to him, he would have laughed in their face and ordered another shot of whisky.

And yet, here he was.

"Why did you name her that?" he asks, smiling when she lifted one of her small hands to her face and pressed a finger against her chin, her ocean blue eyes glistening with absolute concentration.

"I had a friend named Kendra when I was a baby," she replies with all the regal poise and disregard that only a child could muster.

"When you were a baby?" Beck questions her, widening his eyes and allowing his mouth to gap open in mock surprise at her answer. "So if you're not a baby anymore, what are you now?"

The grin that forms on her lips steals his heart, and she proceeds to exclaim "Daddy's Girl!" with an open pride and adoration that makes it skip a beat (or three).

The wind is blowing through her shiny, chestnut brown curls and the pink and white flowers in her hair, along with the knee-length carnation-pink dress, make her look like a prettier version of any princess he had ever seen or read about. Beck thinks it's kind of fitting how her name meant "Queen of the Fairies," given the little girl's tendency to look and act like one. Her eyes never failed to twinkle with curiosity and the edge of her lips always lifted in an innocent smile that was full of mischief.

She was a free spirit; just like her mother.

"Hmm, and I thought I'd at least get a little credit."

Beck turns around to meet the voice that'd interrupted his conversation, not being the least offended when the girl in question dropped all pretenses of being interested in their small talk and ran to her godmother's opened arms.

"Noni!" she squealed, stretching out her arms for Tori to pick her up. She does so, cradling the girl to her chest and laughing when her thin arms wrapped around her neck in a bear hug.

"Chipmunk!" Tori answers back, returning the embrace. "Did you have fun earlier? I know weddings can be kind of boring, even for big girls like you."

"It was okay," she shrugs off, but then remembers something and her big blue eyes widen and she exclaims excitedly, "Noni, you looked so pretty! Like a princess!"

"Thank you, Avery," she answers, lowering the girl back on her feet and tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "I think we all know you were the prettiest girl there, though."

"Mr. Beck said I look like a fairy," she giggles, making a show of spreading her arms out and twirling around before a bout of dizziness takes over her little body and she stumbles on her feet.

"You do look like a fairy," Tori agrees, laughing when Avery falls on her behind and grins at the new challenge. She leans down and mock whispers in her ear: "You know, I heard that Aunt Cat has a _whole_ bag filled with gifts for you, and your brother is already inside with her."

The girl squeals, and she seems to have some sort of internal dilemma as she's torn between picking up her dolls and running off to find the alleged gifts. Finally, she returns her attention to Beck and speeds towards him until she's standing at his side. Grabbing onto his hand, she steps on her tippy-toes so she can be at almost eye-level with the sitting man.

"Can you take care of my dolls?" she asks him, turning on her smothering eyes until a grin breaks out on Beck's face. "I promise I'll come back to get them really soon!"

Beck laughs, before nodding his acceptance. "No problem, kiddo."

And then she's off.

"Beck," she hears Tori call beside him, a small smile gracing her pretty lips. "I wasn't sure you'd show up when I missed you in church."

He shrugs, offering her a place on the bench beside him. "I figured I'd avoid making a possible scene. I know I'm not exactly a lot of people's favorite person."

And they both knew that was true.

It'd taken him months to work up the courage to apologize to Tori for his rude behavior. He'd known since the moment he'd uttered the insults all those years ago that they were false and cruel, but his hurt pride and ego had spat them out in one of his less than dignified moments. He still hadn't really forgiven himself for the hurt he knew he'd caused her, but she seemed to be more than happy to mend fences.

He was pretty sure he didn't deserve her friendship back, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

"I know, but Andre and I are really happy you came."

"Well, I wasn't about to miss your guy's wedding," he answers, grinning when a radiant smile breaks out on her face. "Jade always swore you two would end up together."

Her smile falters and her nose scrunches up, highlighting her trademark cheekbones. "Are you," she murmurs out. "Are you okay with being here with them? I can't imagine meeting Avery could have been easy for you."

"It's fine," he dismisses her, trying almost in vain to ease the tension he can see forming on her shoulders. "I knew what I was getting myself in to. This is _their_ home, after all."

"I know, but that doesn't mean some things don't still hurt," she retorts, her voice soft and comforting. "I know how much she meant to you."

"Stop it," he answers instead, because it's bad enough that he's here already; he does not feel like going down Memory Lane at the moment. "This is your wedding and we should be talking about that instead of bringing up the past. It's been years since the last time I saw her, anyways."

"You sure?" she asks, still unconvinced. "It may be my wedding, but you're my friend and that matters more to me than a party."

"I'm fine," he promises. "Really."

It's okay that neither one believes it.

-.-.-.-

It takes the little fairy more than an hour to come back, and when she finally does, she's not alone.

"Mommy, he's over here."

Beck hears her little voice travel over, and he lifts his gaze to see her pulling at her mother's hand and leading her and a little boy who couldn't be more than five years old towards him. He doesn't have to strain himself to figure out it's Jade's son; the black hair and blue eyes gave away his parentage in a heartbeat. "Matthew said I lost my dolls but he's lying; Mr. Beck has them."

He watches the exact moment in which Jade freezes her movements, demanding her children stop and pay attention to her. "Who's Mr. Beck?"

"He's one of my Noni's friends," she explains, and Beck can hear the exasperation in her voice. "He was sitting by the roses and I showed him my dolls."

"Avery, what have I told you about running off where I can't see you?" she reprimands her daughter, short and stoic, arching an elegant eyebrow and patiently waiting for her rules to be repeated verbatim.

"Not to do it," answers the small voice, and Beck can swear that the vulnerability in it is not sincere, but rather the girl's ingenious way of getting out of trouble.

"And what did I say about speaking with people you don't know very well, even if they're in our home?"

"But mommy," the little girl whined, pouting her lower lip and widening her eyes before she began to explain the innocent reasoning behind her actions. "Mr. Beck looked really lonely and it made me sad."

Jade turns her attention to him then, offering the man in question a small smile in greeting and softening her gaze at her daughter's words. "I know you only wanted to make him feel better, but next time remember to tell me before you run off like crazy. You had me worried."

Avery nods fervently, lifting her hands to cup Jade's cheeks before pressing her tiny forehead against her mother's. "Promise," she states, and a smile breaks across her face before she drops a kiss on the tip of Jade's nose. "I love you, mommy."

Jade laughs, knowing she was getting suckered out of a stern talk with her daughter but not particularly caring. She turns sideways and runs her fingers through her son's hair, ruffling the strands in the process. He scowls, but Beck can see the grin that breaks across his face before he hugs onto Jade's legs. "Mom!," he complains, but then he looks up and catches Beck's gaze.

"Who is he?" Matthew questions, lifting his hand to point a finger at Beck.

"He's an old friend of mine," Jade explains. "We went to school together."

"He has my dolls," Avery states, and she's standing in front of him in a flash. Beck smiles when she carefully packs them all back into her bag, before turning back to him and wrapping her little arms around his neck. "Thank you."

He returns the embrace, and then she's gone.

But he can see the way Jade seems to have stopped breathing, and it doesn't matter that he hasn't seen her in over five years or that she has a new family because he can still read her like an open book, and he knows that on some bizarre level, she feels guilty.

"Avery, Matthew," she calls out to both her children, who instantly perk up to listen for directions. "The first one to catch Uncle Robbie doing something weird gets first dibs at the cake."

Beck can't stop the smile that forms on his face when he watches both kids set off in a run, laughing the whole way, and he's reminded of the mischievous streak that used to take over Jade whenever she felt a challenge rising. It's funny, he thinks, how even though both her children ultimately _looked_ like Ryder, they had a tendency to _act_ like their mother.

"Beck."

Oh, yes. Said mother hadn't left yet.

"Jade."

"I see you met my kids," she states, before grinning with undisguised pride. "Of course the little rascals couldn't stay out of trouble."

He nods, because to be honest he doesn't know what else to do. Sure, he knows the polite thing to do, the _expected_ thing to do, would be to act along and tell her that her kids are great and that he's great and that he's glad she's great and that everything is just fucking great and that seeing her again is great, but he somehow knows she wouldn't buy that.

"They're great," he replies, and he tries hard to bite down the vile that burns his throat because what the fuck.

She fidgets in front of him, grabbing one of her arms and radiating discomfort with every move she takes. Finally, he watches intently as she takes a few steps and sits down beside him, the bench suddenly feeling much smaller than it used to.

Jade takes a deep breath, but her gaze isn't on him. Instead, it's fixed on one of her rose bushes and on the firefly that's currently circling it. Quietly, almost as if to not disturb him, she asks "Are you okay?"

They've known each other too long, been through too much, to play around the edges. She respects him enough not to pretend like he's just some old friend she hasn't seen in a while, or like a jilted crush she broke up with on good terms, and he likes to think he's grown up enough to do the same.

He knows she's not asking if he's okay right now or if he needs a drink of water because he's thirsty. She's asking if he's _okay_.

Okay since she left him. Okay since she went on to have more children. Okay since she avoided him like the plague. Okay with her moving back to Los Angeles and across the country from him. Okay with her loving another man.

Okay without her.

Beck stops to think about his answer.

Was he okay with this?

At the most basic level, he knows this path of absolutely silence and absence is the only one they have left.

They've never really been friends. The moment he saw her, back when he was fourteen, he knew that there was no way he could ever be her friend. She was bright and intimating and captivating and all he knew was that he wanted to kiss her, and you don't kiss your friends. Sure, they eventually grew up to be each other's everything, and he loved her more than anyone else in the world.

She was his girl, his lover, and if he believed in those kinds of things, he would say she was his soul mate.

But she was never his _friend_, and she never would be.

Just as she would never be his lover again.

She's staring at him now, but he can't bring himself to answer her honestly. Instead, he replies with his own question. "Are you happy?"

"Yes," she answers immediately, and he knows deep in his heart that she's telling the truth. "Matthey and Avery and Ryder; they make me happier than I ever knew I could be."

"I'm happy for you," he confides, and that, at least, is true.

"You're better, too," she notes. "Tori told me you just booked two big films; I know how much you've always wanted to do just movies and let go of television. I'm sure you'll do amazing."

"Thanks," he answers, and then they both stay quiet.

"Don't you miss it?" he finally breaks the silence. "Acting and singing?"

She seems taken aback with the question, and Beck thinks she's about to tell him it's none of his business and walk away but then she surprises him. "Sometimes," she admits.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Because I grew up," she answers. "I grew up and suddenly singing and acting for other people didn't feel as important as singing my kids to sleep at night or constantly acting like a fool just to make them laugh. Sure, I could have kept on singing and acting and gotten babysitters and made sure they were properly looked after, but I didn't want to; I just wanted to be with them."

"But it was everything you wanted," he retorts, confused and trying to decipher her thought process. "You always said you wanted to be famous; to make your mark."

"Things change; _people_ change, and I have made my mark," she contradicts him. "Two of them, actually."

"Matthew and Avery."

"Exactly."

She looks away and runs a hand through her loose hair. It's short again, barely grazing her bare shoulders and emphasizing the sweetheart cut of her lilac dress. The black tresses remind him of a time when she used to love singing and acting for him, but he decides it's not the time to let those feelings surface.

"Why didn't you come back?"

The question hits him out of nowhere, and Beck swears he can hear his heart pounding against his ribcage. "What?" he stutters out.

"Why didn't you come back?" she repeats, and she's looking straight at him now and he wants to get up and run away as fast as he can. "After you got famous, you could have come back."

"I didn't think you'd take me back," he answers, but even to him it sounds like a lie.

"I waited for you," she confesses. "I waited for almost two years. Even after you got famous and after you dated half of Manhattan; I was always waiting for you. It was pathetic, and I didn't care."

"But I thought you and Ryder," he starts, but she cuts him off.

"Ryder and I didn't start a relationship until after I turned twenty two. He came back since before that, _way_ before that, but I didn't actually give him a chance until then. Still, you haven't answered the question," she reminds him.

Why didn't he come back?

He could say he doesn't know. He could tell her he thought she wouldn't take him back or that he wasn't allowed to. He could give her a long sob story about how he wanted to go back for her, but there were obstacles in his way that simply worked against their relationship.

"I was afraid," he goes with the truth instead. It's not like he has much more to lose, anyways. "I hated who I was becoming. Everybody was always telling me how they loved me and how they were my friends but I didn't buy it. Those people didn't even know who I really was. I just, I needed to know that there was _somebody_ who still remembered me, someone who _loved me_ for who I really was. If even _you_ hated me, what hope could I possibly have?"

"I will always love you. I think it's physically impossible for me not to."

"Yeah," he retorts, knowing exactly what she was referring to and making no allusions to anything greater. "But you're not in love with me anymore. Not in the way you used to be when you were a teenager and definitely not nearly enough to ever give us another try. Not that you should ever even _want_ to, and not in the way that you love _him_ and your family. I see that now, and honestly, I understand."

"They mean everything to me."

"As they should," he replies, placing his hand over hers on the bench to give her a reassuring squeeze. "Go on, it's getting late and I'm pretty sure your kids are giving Robbie hell right now."

"Thank you," she replies before standing up and walking away, looking over her shoulder to send him a farewell smile.

She smiles at him, and he can see the shadow of guilt is gone. She seems relieved and he feels something inside of him that had previously been numb swell at the realization that for the first time in a long time, _he's_ responsible for a little part of her happiness.

-.-.-.-

She's standing on a make-shift stage, singing a love song while the bride and groom complete their first official dance as Mr. and Mrs. Harris.

Her children are sitting down cross-legged in front of her, staring in awe at their gorgeous mother while the rest of the guest _ohh_ and _ahh_ over Tori and Andre.

On any other occasion, Beck would have been watching the happy couple as well, but he just couldn't bring himself to tear his attention away from Jade. It was the first time he'd heard her sing live in more than eight years, and if there was one thing he'd always been a sucker for, it was her voice.

"She's still amazing, isn't she?"

He doesn't have to turn around to know who's speaking to him. "She is. You're a lucky guy."

"I know," Ryder replies, but he doesn't sound smug about it. He sounds thankful and as if he himself was still not quite sure how he'd ended up with so much. For the first time, Beck thinks he can see what everyone else was always going on about when they claimed that Ryder had changed.

He likes to think that he can, too.

"You have everything I ever wanted," Beck admits, the truthful observation surprising him as it spills out of his throat and hangs in the air.

"I think," begins Ryder, and his voice lowers so that only Beck can hear him. He's not trying to hide or mask his words, but is instead offering him a small sign of respect and acceptance. "That the only difference between you and I is that you wanted a lot of things, and all I ever really wanted was her."

He thinks that truer words were never spoken.

"You make her happy," Beck declares, taking a sip out of his whiskey.

"I like to think so," Ryder nods, smiling as he watches Avery lean her head on her brother's shoulder. "God knows she and my kids make my life."

"That's all anyone can really ask for."

The music stops, and Beck hears as the applause spreads throughout the room, signaling the end of the couple's dance. Quietly, he slips out of the room and doesn't stop to look back. A new emotion washes over his body, and for once, he feels like he can breathe again.

He knows he's going to be okay, because she's happy.

And somehow, that's enough to give him peace.

-.-.-.-

**FIN. **

**Thanks to everyone who followed this story! Also, don't hate me for the ending, you can all direct your anger towards Bria (boughthedream) for forcing me to rethink the bade ending. **

**Kendra gets a doll named after her because I was supposed to update this for her days ago and she did a twitter thing, too. Cause, ya know, she's a G like that. **

**Also, shameless amounts of bade promised in my new fic, Paper Doll. Check it out if you haven't!**

**Lauren, Michelle, Brittany and Mad: you guys are awesome. **

**-Lori **


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